Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Czech Republic and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Wire to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Kinks. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Bourne,
Aloha Tigers,
Mad Mike,
Todd Rundgren,
Grandmaster Flash,
Tubeway Army,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Gun Club,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pylon,
Iggy Pop,
Stiv Bators,
Freddie Wadling,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Gories,
Carl Craig,
Porter Ricks,
Boz Scaggs,
MDC,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bronski Beat,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sonny Sharrock,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Man Eating Sloth,
Urselle,
Alton Ellis,
Janne Schatter,
Public Image Ltd.,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Underground Resistance,
Ornette Coleman,
ABBA,
Avey Tare,
10cc,
Silicon Teens,
Main Source,
Khruangbin,
Warsaw,
Reuben Wilson,
The Fire Engines,
Black Moon,
Harpers Bizarre,
Pole,
Eli Mardock,
The Toasters,
Derrick Morgan,
The Black Dice,
Q and Not U,
L. Decosne,
Bill Wells,
Nik Kershaw,
Alphaville,
Joe Smooth,
Ponytail,
Y Pants,
Visage,
Big Daddy Kane,
Peter and Kerry,
MC5, MC5, MC5, MC5.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.